


The Days After

by offwithmyhead



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, slight nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 17:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/offwithmyhead/pseuds/offwithmyhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hmm, is this all a trick to try and get me to move in with you...? Cos it might be working."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Days After

"Connor, you have absolutely nothing edible in here," Oliver complains, as he peers into the almost empty refrigerator. There's a very bruised banana sitting sadly in the corner, some questionable Tupperwares...and Oliver is quite positive that box at the back there was from the Chinese takeaway they had. One week ago.

He catches sight of three eggs hidden behind one Tupperware - seriously, does the man not know how to use the egg tray? - and grabs the butter. He checks the expiry, and - phew, it's still safe to eat.

He's been over at Connor's place often enough that he knows where the plates and pans are, and gets the items and cutlery out of the cabinet and drawer.

"Seriously, you need to take better care of yourself. I mean, with classes and the hours you put in for the cases! Is this how you stay so lean?" Oliver grabs a bowl, cracking the eggs and starts whisking them with a fork.

"This is not gonna be enough but it will have to do. Shall we go grocery shopping later after I get off work? Uh, we need a shopping list. We need milk and fruits and...uh, Connor?"

He finally realizes he's babbling and looks questioningly to the topless younger man leaning against the kitchen counter top. Connor's got both hands wrapped around a cup of coffee that's pressed to his lips, and those eyes peering at him from over the rim makes Oliver blush. It's a look that Oliver is defenseless against, a look that has literally brought Oliver to his knees many times before.

Oliver clears his throat nervously. Connor's gaze lingers on his face, his body, his arms, and it brings about a sudden onslaught of explicit images from last night's activities that chose that exact moment to replay themselves in his mind. Oliver turns his attention back to the eggs, suddenly feeling self-conscious about how he looks.

Sure, they've seen each other naked before, been in much more...exposed situations and positions, and it's stupid and a bit too late to be feeling embarrassed. But this, standing together in broad daylight in Connor's kitchen making breakfast in their underwear, this is intimate and domestic and very new.

Oliver is conscious about how he looks like in his well-worn grey boxer briefs - he hasn't been religiously going to the gym, and he's been meaning to get new underwear honestly, but never got to go shopping because a certain gorgeous law student keeps turning up at his doorstep.

The t-shirt he had blindly picked up from Connor's laundry basket is riding up and tight around his middle and biceps, and Oliver sneaks a peek down at the shirt he's wearing and what in the hell, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shirt?

Great, he looks like an idiot beside Connor, who in his tight little black boxer briefs with his trim body and his stylishly messy hair, looks like he just stepped out of a Calvin Klein underwear billboard.

"Stop looking at me! You're practically burning holes into my skin," Oliver says, keeping his eyes on the bowl. He needs to get to the stove but Connor's blocking his way and Oliver feels the blush creeping up his neck, slowly making his face warm.

"Why not? You're hot and smart, and really good in bed, and I actually, really, really like you," Connor murmurs, putting his cup aside and shifts to stand behind him, molding his body along the curve of Oliver's back. Arms bracket Oliver in against the countertop and Oliver laughs when he realizes Connor is half-hard behind him.

He pushes back, gently. "Someone's having a good morning?"

"Mm, it could be. I dunno, something about you, wearing my clothes really turns me on." Connor breathes in deeply and rests his chin on Oliver's shoulder. "I woke up to the smell of your cologne on my pillows."

"And?" Connor kisses behind his ear and Oliver reaches back, burrows his fingers into Connor's bedhead. Connor, all sleep rumpled and affectionate in the mornings, is a side to Connor that Oliver really loves seeing. Strip off the suits and the hairgel and that smirk he wears, and Connor is practically a huge kitten purring for belly rubs.

He pulls a little at Connor's hair and Connor groans.

"I love having you here. I love waking up to hearing you in the kitchen. I love that you smell like me. And I love seeing your clothes on my bedroom floor. It's all a very big turn-on, if you can't already tell..."

Connor punctuates his words with little rolls of his hips and Oliver's feeling a bit light-headed and having a difficult time keeping himself upright; is it even possible for blood to rush south this fast...?

"You're in-insane. I'm in ratty underwear and wearing a shirt with - God, yes - turtles. This is totally dorky and so not sexy," Oliver murmurs, relishing the stubble burn against his cheek as Connor's arms snake around him, pulling Oliver flush against him.

The bowl and fork rattles on the counter, forgotten, as he links their hands. His head falls back on Connor's shoulder as he grinds his hips back.

"Oli-Oliver, fuck - you could be wearing a black garbage bag and I'd still find you sexy."

"Hmm, is this all a trick to try and get me to move in with you...? Cos it might be working."

Connor shifts his hands down to Oliver's hips and turns him so that they're standing face to face.

"No tricks. I swear. I - I want you. I need and want you all the time now, and I don't know how to stop," Connor whispers. He looks a bit lost, like he's not too sure what to do about it and Oliver thinks that yes, he loves this man and he will do anything for him.

"Then don't. Don't stop."

There's a moment's hesitation before their lips crash together. It's all clashing teeth and wet and desperate and messy, and they gasp into each other's mouths when Connor lines up against him just right.

His fingers scrabble for purchase on Connor's bare shoulders and Oliver knows he should probably stop this, because both of them have places to be that morning, and they need to have breakfast, and he's going to make eggs, and they need to make a shopping list for later so that Connor doesn't starve, and ohgodyes, Connor is sucking at his tongue, grinding just a little harder, faster, rougher.

Connor's teeth bite and pull at his lower lip, and his whispers are absolutely filthy as he tells Oliver about all the nasty things he will do - "on this very kitchen floor, Oliver", "that window over there so the neighbors can see" - and how he'd have his way with Oliver on every surface in his apartment dressed in nothing but his Ninja Turtles shirt.

Oliver bites back a whine when Connor pulls back, already missing his burning touch but _oh, oh_ , Oliver's brain momentarily goes offline when Connor slides gracefully down to his knees.

The other man makes a show of licking his lips, mouth mere inches from Oliver's crotch that Oliver can feel his hot and heavy breaths. Dark eyes look up at Oliver and he reaches down to wipe that devastating half smirk off Connor's face, tracing Connor's kiss-swollen lips with his middle and pointer fingers.

"Breakfast, Connor?"

Oliver grins as Connor's mouth falls open.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Could be seen as a follow-up to Change, or read as a standalone fic. I really can't quite decide now. :P


End file.
